


Nightmares

by ritsuko



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Demon Sex, Humiliation, M/M, Mpreg, Nightmares, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Spells & Enchantments, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:39:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritsuko/pseuds/ritsuko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichabod can't help the feelings he starts to give into when he falls asleep. . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

The darkness around him is thick, like a breathing, pulsing entity. He tries to remain calm, but when he feels something slick and cold dribble down the cleft of his ass, he cries out and struggles. 

It is no use, he is bound tightly, arms roughly shackled above his head and legs spread uncomfortably wide to the point that he is precariously balancing on the balls of his feet. He is sure he would not be upright if not for the chains binding him in place. For a moment, he wishes that he could see. But then as something thick slides along his crack, searching out his puckered orifice, he is glad he can't. 

It nudges forward, trying to break past the ring of clenched muscle. Desperately he tries to keep it out. He screams as muscle gives way to force and the thing pushes into him. It hurts more than any pain he has ever experienced before, even death. Pulsing, it thrusts harder, gaining ground and pushing further into his tight channel.

There is a little less friction now, and he wonders if he is bleeding. Drool starts to eke from the corner of his mouth, stomach feeling upset with so much cock stuffing his insides. Tears are freely falling now, the pain and shame unbearable.

Finally the thing is flush against him, he can tell by the soft scrape of hair from the other man's testicles against his buttocks. There is a soft whimpering and it takes him a moment to realize that he is the one making the pained noise. He feels so full, stretched taut by a monster's cock that he feels like his belly is distended by its size. The creature doesn't move.

Seconds tick by like an eternity. Perhaps he starts to hallucinate; its far easier to the ignore the rod like flesh made steel inside of him. The darkness seems to ebb away little by little, a dim glowing orb bouncing it's way towards him as if from a distance. Groggily, he tries to focus on it, willing away the pain.

"Awake?" It takes a moment for Officer Andy Brook's voice to register in his mind. "That's too bad. Soon you'll wish you weren't." The ex cop lifts his lantern up, peering at him. The set of his face is grim, and he keeps looking away as if he wishes that he were absolutely anywhere else. Since his arrival, the phallus inside has started to quiver, shooting electric shocks through the pinned man's system. Grasping for words, all he can do is moan heavily.

"I warned you." The other man admonishes. "You should have heeded it." The giant cock recedes so quickly that the man tries to shriek, but his breath is stolen from him as it rips back into his anus. His whole body is jerking with how relentlessly plundered his body is. His head slumps forward, tongue lolling out as he is slammed into repeatedly with inhuman speed.

The entity behind him roughly grabs a leg, raising it over one arm and thrusts in at a new angle. His eyes open wide in shock as a small bit of pleasure wings through him. He is unable to hold back a lusty whine as that spot is battered again and again. Soon, his hips are moving of their own volition, desperate to feel the small bit of pleasure amidst all of the pain. Fingers wrap around his chin, guiding his gaze upwards.

"I see you are enjoying him." Andy says with distaste trying to keep his gaze focused anywhere else. He can only grunt in response, worn down by the constant barrage of feeling against his prostate. His own cock feels thick and weeping between his legs, sac heavy. It has been quite awhile since he has felt the need to relieve tension, and he regrets not having done it sooner. Maybe he could have held out longer, not been pleasured by so lowly an act.

The force of the thrusts quicken inside him. He shrieks in tempo with them, the throbbing in his balls unbearable. He feels so close. Without warning, the cock in his ass erupts, filling him with a torrent of hot sticky come.

He comes undone by the feeling of his channel being flooded, cock spurting wildly into the air. The one behind him fucks his orgasm out, milked by his spasming ass. Things start to take on a dreamlike quality as his eyes start to flutter shut, his eyes focusing downwards to his come packed belly, pushed obscenely outwards by that length. His ass is vacated and he chokes back a sob as hot rivulets stream down the back of his legs. He feels achingly empty, on the brink of consciousness. 

As the last of the fluid evacuates his anus, he starts to come to, semen tacky on the back of his thighs. Two sets of feet are in front of him. One, the ex cops with an embarrassingly thick ropes of come across one shoe. The other. . .

He stiffens, recognizing battered black boots and soft tan breeches then a huge cock, the one that had fucked him so mercilessly. The man's hips swivel, slapping him across the face with it, leaving a streak of blood and come across his abused cheek. He opens his mouth to speak, but that length is only pushed past lips and teeth.

"Ah, yes. I should have done this long ago." His gaze darts up to see Andy's eyes glowing an unholy black, leering at him. "Such a perfect little broodmare." As more length is shoved down his throat, his eyes roll back into his head, but not before he sees the Horseman, one giant hand clamped on either side of his head, taking his breath with his thrust.

Ichabod tries to scream-

He awakens in a panic, the familiarity of the cabin all around him. It takes a long time for his breathing to calm. Just a nightmare. 

But the cold sweat slicking his body and his insides fiery hot like passion ghosting through his slack insides. No, he tells himself firmly. Just a nightmare.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Many nights pass, so many that the nightmare is moved to the back of his brain, but it still lurks in the shadows. Each time he is accidentally touched by Abigail or has a run in with a demon, he remembers the Horseman. He has not seen the headless monster since the dream, nor the ex cop, but there are times when he stiffens for no reason, as if some wayward gaze is examining him.

There is no need to tell Abbie. No reason to worry her or try to explain to a lady just the sickening filth of his nightmares. It doesn't seem like it matters. He still tries to tell himself that it was only a dream. Nothing that could hurt him.

Still, it takes an incredibly long time to fall asleep every night.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It comes without warning, crashing through his defenses one night. The day had been uneventful, spent looking through ancient texts in the secret room. He'd accepted a ride home from the lieutenant, cooked himself a minor meal, and eaten several donut holes for dessert. Sleep took him with no worries.

The cock stretches him wide, one hard slam and it's all the way in. Bile rises. Ichabod chokes back a scream as he stares up, on his back, into the nothingness where the Horseman's head should be. The fear that he had forgotten rapidly builds in him as he is emptied and thrust into again. 

The momentum is almost enough to fling him off the table, but for the heavy hands holding his hips down with bruising force. Ichabod raises his hands to strike the other man, pummeling against the Horseman's broad chest, only to realize how useless an endeavor it is. How does one still death? 

Between them, his cock fills and he curses his body's betrayal. Since the last dream he has shied from offering himself any release, and now he curses it. His body is over sensitive to the furious pounding he is receiving, sweet spot inside sending tremors throughout him. By the fifth thrust, he is moaning wantonly.

He doesn't want it. He doesn't. But his body cannot handle the ministrations. Barely conscious of it, he thrusts upwards, hoping for some sort of friction on his ignored cock. He gets none, but the angle is hit harder, enough for him to start crooning. Enough for him to wriggle his hips that way on every thrust. 

The Horseman releases inside him, flooding him with come. He screams, cock bursting in the air like an obscene fountain, painting the other man's jacket in white.

They pause a moment, that cock still thrumming inside him and he can feel the fluid inside him, unable to escape. The headless man presses a cold hand to Ichabod's abdomen, feeling. The touch is nauseating, so much inside, and the man wriggles helplessly. He cannot tell for sure, but it seems like the demon is gloating.

He is then turned onto his stomach and mounted like a bitch in heat. 

Ichabod whimpers-

And is ashamed to awaken in the middle of a sticky mess.

~*~*~*~

The dreams start to hound him with a frequent urgency. What quickly became once a week turned into a couple days every week. Within a month, the Horseman is fucking him every night in his dreams. He knows it is not natural, feels sick at the thought of it, but who can he tell? There seems to be nothing to do but shoulder the burden alone. He hates the Horseman with a passion, for what he has done to his friends. His wife.

Himself.

But now, every night when he readies for bed, no matter what he tries to do to assuage it, his erection hangs thick and flushed in anticipation. At first, he fights the sensations, lashes out at the other man, but gradually, he has been lulled into submission by the Horseman's expert movements. He never touches Ichabod, but always manages to make the man come. 

Sometimes Andy is there, the Horseman's voice flinging insults, leering at what a cock loving slut he is. At first, it upsets him, but then he slowly comes to realize that the words have some truth. Why else would he start to steal away, penetrate himself on his fingers in the men's lavatory in the police station? Why ignore his throbbing cock before sleep, fully knowing that the headless man will not touch it? 

He feels nothing but shame when he thinks of Katrina, so he pushes her from his mind. There is nothing to rid him of his guilt. He has grown to brave it.

~*~*~*~

The Horseman can fill him and make him feel like no other.

Ichabod grows to welcome the burn of thick cock in his ass, filling him up with hot come. Rough hands upon him, but never his weeping prick. He becomes addicted to the sensations of being overcome by the beast, fucked hard until his hole is twitching and empty, robbed of that length only to have delicious jizz filling him. He prefers having his ass mauled, the Horseman's cock doesn't fit into his mouth without choking him. But when the headless man lets him lick his prick clean, he tastes finer than the sweetest sugars. He wants to taste the fluid inside of him, but then he might not have any left to fill him.

Although he doesn't notice, Abbie starts to worry. Months pass and he becomes sluggish, constantly tired. Sleepy Hollow has been quiet for so long that all talk of the end of days has started to wane in importance. Life moves like a lazy dream, each day spent yearning for the night's pleasures.

He can't remember the last time he left the cabin.

~*~*~*~

He has forgotten how much time has passed since this has started. It seems like an eternity has passed since he has seen the lieutenant, but for some reason, it doesn't seem to matter all that much to him anymore. 

Seated with his back against the headless man's chest, Ichabod's mouth hangs slack, moaning wantonly at the pressure building up within him. The constant pounding into his tight channel is making him come undone yet again. His thighs and ass are already sticky with drying release, his own and the Horseman's. Andy watches from across the room, a delighted malice in those blackened orbs as if he can sense the coming orgasms.

"Such a good little whore you are, Ichabod. To think that someone once so strong would open up so nicely for me." The words drawl from the ex cops mouth, he watches with half lidded eyes as the dark haired man licks his lips. "You're almost ready. Very soon now."

Ichabod's brow furrows, unsure of the meaning behind those words. It doesn't matter, the Horseman is quickening his pace, ramming into him lighting fast and sending just as many shocks through his system. A tentative hand reaches out to grab his erection, but the monster roughly grabs his wrists, pinning them behind his back. A shameful whimper escapes his throat, but he makes do with rocking his hips, ensuring that the cock inside him hits him just right every time. 

The Horseman comes without warning pounding mercilessly until a flood of come is rushing through Ichabod's insides. The man screams, about to release himself, when a vicelike grip constricts around his balls, denying him orgasm. He screams, staring in shock at Andy's face which is leering malevolently at him.

"No, no, you're going to keep all of that pent up inside like a good little bitch." He murmurs, other hand reaching up to stroke his bearded cheek. He cannot handle the sensation, ass quivering all around the cock flooding him. He starts to cry.

"Please. Please let go, I beg you, please let me-" Ichabod chokes out a sob as the Horseman starts to thrust lazily in and out of him, spent but still reminding him of who he belongs to.

"Let you come? Is that what you want?" Andy asks, still holding firmly, but softly massaging the man's balls with his fingers. Ichabod hisses at the pleasure, and nods, eyes clenched shut. "Oh no, you're going to have to tell me more than that. What do you want, Ichabod?"

The other man licks his lips, tears streaking from his eyes. "To. . . to release." His voice cracks, so unused to forming words.

"And to whom do you owe your release?" The voice demands, stroking a little firmer now. Ichabod starts to see stars.

"The. . . the Horseman! Oh please just. . . please!" The cock in his as has stilled but seems to thrum with power. 

"Who do you belong to, Ichabod?"

He knows he shouldn't answer, that he shouldn't give in, deep down inside. But he can't help squirming, impaled on one side and being teased on the other.

But it's all too much.

"The Horseman! You know it's you, with all your damn torment! Why else would I-" Ichabod yells as the ex cop lets go and his cock spurts madly in the air, arcing before splattering fluid onto the floor. All he can see is white dancing stars, his vision and hearing failing him.

When he starts to come to, there are tender hands on his abdomen, probing. It feels odd. His eyelids flutter open, and he looks down-

His whole body goes rigid, cold. His belly is swollen and huge, larger than any man's should ever be. 

It is as large as a woman's that is heavy of child. One ready to give birth at any moment. 

He can feel a nervous sweat break out all over his body. _Just a dream, just a dream._

_JUST A NIGHTMARE!_

Something inside him shifts, moving a little, and Ichabod screams, true terror welling inside him. Still, the Horseman's hands sooth along his belly, the only calm touches that the other man. . . the creature has ever given him.

"What's the problem, Crane?" Andy spits, dark eyes crackling with power. "I thought you always wanted a son. Now your dream can come true."

The skin of his stomach ripples and Crane fights the urge to vomit. There is nothing innocent or holy about it. Those large hands caress along the bump, and Brooks smiles a twisted smile.

And then snarls.

The room around them fragments, like cracks in a broken mirror. Light filters into the room and starts to obliterate the shadows that once covered the rooms, revealing a shimmering figure stepping out of the light.

The Horseman's hand stills almost protectively, and Ichabod lets out a pained cry, the movement inside him almost too much to bear.

Everything moves lightning fast.

Shots are fired.

The Horseman lunges forward

"No!" Andy screams.

Fire rips through Ichabod's abdomen.

Everything goes black.

~*~*~*~

There is the slight smell of sage and honey, a sticky substance on his chest. Ichabod's eyes flash open in terror, remembering the Horseman remembering-

"Shh, Shh, Crane, it's okay." Abbie's voice comes from his right, but the man can only stare in relief down at his stomach, flat and slim, and no signs of a child. His whole chest and abdomen is covered in a salve, a sheet barely covering him. Blushing, he pulls it up to his chest, looking up to see a bemused but worried look on Abbie's face. "You were out a long time."

He doesn't really know what to say. "Lieutenant. . . what. . ."

Abbie crosses her arms, leaning against the wall. He recognizes the room finally, Seamus Duncan's. "You were in a coma. Just went to sleep one night, and didn't wake up. You've had me worried sick all week. Had to get some help to get you out of. . . that other place." She states, faced measured.

He realizes then that she was the figure in the light. Shame burns his cheeks as he wonders just what she had seen.

"Did you. . ." Cranes starts, but can't force the words out. 

She reaches out a hand, comfortingly on his shoulder. "No need to think about any of that now. You're fine. Everything's going to be fine." Abbie takes a step back. "I'm going to go get you some water."

Ichabod says nothing as she leaves the room, presumably to give himself a moment alone. Suddenly, all alone, the room is too dark, the salve too thick on him. It takes all that he has not to lose it, to start screaming, crying, lose his sanity.

He wants to vomit.

He wants to hit something.

He never wants to sleep again.


End file.
